We heard everybody is doing mud runs (92 percent more people have tried muddies, along with events like zombie runs, in the past year!). So naturally, we had to do a race. And one that sits on top of a mountain, and requires fire-jumping and crawling under barbed wire. Because you know what we didn't hear everybody's doing? Half-assing it. Here, our diary of how we prepped for the altitude, conquered the course and came back with the best race stories ever.

Tuesday, August 14

9 p.m. Tonight we had a sleepover. In the SELF magazine conference room. We pitched a Hypoxico altitude tent that simulates what the air's like at 13,000 feet. How? In very unscientific terms, a tube sucks the oxygen out. The tent's supposed to help us acclimate so we're not gasping for air on the course. And we hear Michael Phelps slept in one leading up to London, so we're pretty sure it's going to give us superhuman racing powers too.

10 p.m. We did a Duane Reade run in Times Square for survival snacks (chocolate-covered pretzels, ginger snaps and gummy worms, naturally), then settled in for a few Funny Or Die videos. Everything was made more comfy thanks to our blow-up mattress, blankets, decorative throw pillows and a shaggy rug. Clearly we should be moonlighting at Domino.

Tuesday, August 14

Tuesday, August 14

10:36 pm It was the thin air. Sorta feels like you're in a helium balloon in this thing, minus the flying. But we liked that the oxygen-sucker-outter gave off a comforting hum. (If you're reading this, Hypoxico guys, we're still working on that fancy lingo.)

10:45 pm The only thing between us and sweet sleep are these damn office emergency lights.

Wednesday, August 15

3:30 p.m. Because it's always been our dream to act out the Hannibal Lecter scene in Silence of the Lambs, we scored altitude masks from our friends at Hypoxico (seriously, those guys rock!) for more thin-air breathing. Same as the tent, these masks keep us at 13,000 feet.

There's also a valve that allows us to crank it up to 21,000 feet (think: Himalaya Mountains-high). A five-minute session there—the longest amount of time we're allowed to clock—produces Pineapple Express-like effects. The chances of us completing full sentences after a few minutes at that level? Slim.

Our game plan: Suck on these babies as much as possible before heading out to Colorado.

Friday, August 17

10 a.m. Touched down in Denver and went straight to the Avis station to pick up our wheels. The guys behind the counter perked up when we told them our names. The convo went something like this:

Avis: "Emerick...OK, here's your rez. Ooooooh!"

Us: "What is it? Hummer? Maserati? Something with suicide doors?!"Avis: "Nah. Better. Prius!"Us: "Um...does that work like a normal car?"Avis: "Eh?"Just like in The Office episode, the Prius really is a silent killer. Not that we killed anyone. But we could see how it could happen. (Especially since we were unsure how to put the car in park, for, like, the first 10 minutes after stopping at a Starbucks.)

We had a two-hour drive ahead, and the worst possible radio options at our fingertips.

Friday, August 17

2 p.m. After checking into our hotel in Frisco, we drove (silently, of course) to Copper Mountain the site of the weekend's Warrior Dash. With three hours until we were able to pick up our race packets, we decided to take advantage of everything the mountain had to offer. First up? Toasting cold ones. We have priorities, people. Colorado Native Ale specifically, because we like a bit of a theme. Nearly 11,000 feet high and just one beer deep, things were already starting to feel like a par-tay.

Friday, August 17

4:45 p.m. Props to the Warrior Dash peeps for having awesome signage. Our favorite one along the course is the DON'T WORRY. WE DIDN'T TRAIN FOR THIS EITHER sign. Because, to be perfectly honest, we are kind of winging this thing.*

Friday, August 17

Friday, August 17

5:45 p.m. Spotted on the drive out of Copper: one of tomorrow's obstacles. Marissa jumped out to give the wall a test run, but she went at it from the wrong way. Still, nice try. Tomorrow we'll learn that you actually climb up the back like a ladder then jump or slide down the back. But if it were reversed, we like to think Maris would totally nail it. (Riiiiighhhht.)

Saturday, August 18

11 a.m.

We got suited and booted for the mess. And we want you guys to see what it's really like to do a mud run, so we each wore a Drift Innovation HD action camera around our heads. (This was definitely a conversation starter. Single ladies take note, you can impress cute guys with your hard-coreness wearing these babies.)

Saturday, August 18

11:45 p.m. As you already know from reading our race-day checklist you can dress in technical, athletic clothes for a mud run (such as trail shoes, tight-fighting capris, and tech socks). Or, you can go balls to the wall and wear the craziest shiz you can get. Before we headed to the start line, we trolled Copper's Warrior Dash village for cray-cray costumes. Here are a few of our faves.

Saturday, August 18

12 p.m. We're off! We had 3.1 miles and 12 obstacles to cover. Here's a shot from our head cameras. The top is the famed mud pit. It's, well, gritty and goopy. But it feels awesome. Think of it like a spa treatment that was included in your race fee! And you can swim through it. We did a little freestyle, breaststroke and backstroke. We decided to spare our fellows racers our attempting the butterfly. The bottom pic is of the dirt-covered sewer tubes you have to crawl through, Army style. The best part about that obstacle? Being done with it.

Saturday, August 18

12:20 p.m. No, we didn't have to dodge any high-speed, aerial fire balls (someone—and we're not naming names **cough** guy at the Frisco MooseJaw bar—actually thought this was a real obstacle). But there was fire. Two fire hurdles you had to jump over. Or through, depending on how good your hops are. Surprising bonus: If you didn't shave your legs for this, well, the fire kinda does it for you.

Saturday, August 18

1 p.m. We think there's an undisclosed, secret 13th obstacle at Warrior Dash. And that is the stretch from the mud pit to the finish, where you'll likely be chewing on mud while trying to keep your pants from falling down. It's exhilarating, really.

Once we made it through the finish line we headed straight for turkey legs and beer. Commence: a superfluous amount of ridiculously muddy post-race celebratory shots. There was dancing. There was climbing. And there was a (terrible) rendition of Journey's Don't Stop Believing where we may or may not have used our turkey legs as microphones. Speaking of parties, check out our list of go-to-brews, post mud-run.

And we think we deserve an extra medal for not getting our Drift head cams muddy. Thanks again, Drift!

Saturday, August 18

Saturday, August 18

1:40 p.m. And in case the race course doesn't challenge you enough, you can engage in some after-Dash CrossFit. Your Workout Of the Day (WOD) is written on the signature dry-erase boards. These chicks k-belled and burped their hearts out. Mad props!